


Cut Time

by marreena



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 02:15:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9798014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marreena/pseuds/marreena
Summary: Angus desperately wants to read his new book, but unfortunately he also does not want to bother anyone which tends to happen no matter what he does.





	

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes I pump so many headcanons about a character into a fic and I wonder if it's still legal anyway I Love Angus
> 
> also new fandom who dis

Angus fidgets to the point where it’s annoying, he’s very much aware of this fact. 

He knows he bounces his leg—his grandfather made a point to call him on it every time he did it, his father used to just put one hand on his knee and steady him, but would not dare mention it—especially when he reads. It is bound to happen, so most of the time he’ll try and curl his legs up on the seat to prevent himself from even getting the chance to bounce his leg. Even sitting on them makes it easier in the end and is more comfortable. 

Of course, that was never proper enough for his mother, which would result in a flick on his shoulder and a scolding to put his feet down off the furniture. A reprimand and a steely gaze from her dark eyes is enough to send the jitters of his legs into the pit of his stomach till they jolt and tie together forming a rock. 

He would have nodded back to his mother, _of course_ , and gone back to reading even through the growing unease till she left him alone. Then, he would tuck his hands underneath his thighs, and that, would be just enough. 

It has been a bit, though since his mother has made him do that—since he’s _seen_  his mother really but he does not think like that—and given enough time most things do become unraveled. 

“Heyo, Ango, can you just stop?” Taako draws from his position of head down on the table with his hat flopping over his head, covering whatever book he had been reading. “You’re shaking my tea and as much as I love it, I real don’t.” 

At that, Angus jolts, realizing that he had been shaking his leg the entire time, and just at the back of his nape he can feel the small ghosting there as a constant threat. He stuffs his hands underneath his thighs as quick as he can stammer out, “Sorry, sir! I won’t do it again.” 

Taako rolls just a bit so he can look directly at Angus and examine him, and he can feel himself squirming in his chair, wanting desperately to shake his leg or do something. “Somethin’ up, my man?” 

He clenches his fists—and other things—and shakes his head, “No, just reading my book. It’s gotten a bit intense.” 

“Thank fuck,” Taako mutters and turns his head again, burying it in the pile of fabric he’s somehow accumulated on the table—Angus is sure that it’s his cloak, but he does not know how it’s managed to get on the table?

He hopes his flush isn’t obvious when he turns his nose back to his book. He should have known that Taako would not have liked being distracted like that. He oozes lethargy, of course Angus would irritate him. Many things that Angus does irritates him—irritates Merle, irritates Magnus—he should have known…

Instead of pulling his legs up into his chair, he hops out of his seat and curses when he bumps the table. It’d be better, things would be better if he just studied on his own. “Have a good day training, sir!” he stops himself from yelping and quickly turns before he can do more damage. 

Taako lifts his head up and watches him quickly retreat from the cafeteria. Even though the eyes are different, the focused stare on that back of his neck still unnerves him and makes him hold his back straighter. There is something in those eyes that are judging him, watching him, writing down every detail and rule that he has not been upholding. 

The retreat back to his room is uneventful as he listens to his steps on the cold marble floor he tries not to recount his experience with Taako—his stare when the ripples in his tea started. _No_ , he blocks it and thinks about this book and the fact that the writer has still not addressed the cup that was stolen at the last gala Caleb’s aunt had thrown.

After all, it _has_  to be related to the duchess attempted murder. 

Cups do not just disappear at dinner parties, Angus knows this fact quite dearly, as he used to listen to the housekeeps carefully count each piece of flatware during the meal _just in case_. When he asked his mother about _why_ , she had simply given him a wry smile and responded with, “Your father’s brother, Arin, has wondering hands and an empty bank account.”

If only his grandmother had pinched Uncle Arin’s hands too then maybe he would have learned—but if they’re family then why do they not offer anything to his uncle? If his bank account is empty then he is most likely in trouble? 

Angus only had barely managed to hold back his question from his mother’s steely glances. 

Grandfather was the only one who really enjoyed answering his questions—a troubling observation that he had made too early on in his life. 

There really is not a lot of space on the moon base—even though, thinking about it there should be a lot more considering how large it really is. 

(He wonders if there is more of the base that he just does not know about.

He wonders and wonders, and really desperately hopes that there is not anything bad that they are hiding deep in the base. Logically there has to be something more, there are too many doors that he does not have access too and as far as he knows, _no one_  else does either—maybe the Director only?—Does it hide the magic that keeps the moon going? Does it reveal how it manages to stay hidden? There are so many questions he has about how this base works but it seems that there is just no one who quite knows or is willing to tell him the truth.

In these moments of paralyzing paranoia that he only has his mother to blame, he thinks of her cruel words towards adventures that always traveled through Neverwinter:  _those who spend their lives hunting monsters, inevitably become them_.)

There are plenty of places to hide out and read but he finds himself not wanting to be alone in this moment. Perhaps it’s his youth still holding grips on him from time to time of just wanting attention no matter how gaudy and improper it is considered. 

He runs down his list of possible people he could visit right now, (Magnus, he had lunch with and no doubt he was back to training, Merle, is someone Magnus and Taako have warned him not to visit at specific times, Carey and Killian were actually down on the surface right now tracking down a tip from one of their correspondents) and settles on settles on Johan. 

Of course, unlike the others, Johan does not mind his presence that much as long as he remains relatively quiet. The moment he enters the Void Fish’s room, a soft plucking of a harp is heard, and Angus tries to keep his steps quiet—but not too much so as to not let Johan know that he is here and trying not to sneak up on him. 

Some sheet music is scattered around him with scribbles of rests and notes that look impossible to play in cut time. Johan is standing in the middle of a couple sheets mixing the melodies and trying to find which one fits best and which one could come next or if it should just be cut into another piece. Angus watches curiously for a moment as he shifts one of the lines into a minor key and plays it only to shake his head and shift it one more half step down and settle on that. 

“Hello, sir!” he says and steps closer, keeping his book close to his chest. 

Johan throws an uninterested look over his shoulder, “Yeah?” 

“I was wondering if it would be okay if I may read in here?” 

He flexes his fingers and glances at the Void Fish as if there were a sort of permission he was looking for and then shrugs. “Knock yourself out, kid.” He reaches for the pillow on his chair and throws it to Angus, who thankfully manages to catch it without sacrificing his book. 

He leans it against the nearest wall—a daring moment he think maybe he would lean it against the Void Fish’s tank, but he would not dare. The Void Fish and all things with it still leave him a bit creeped. A thing that could erase memories easily with just one slip of paper fed to it. That sort of power, most people here just sniff at, accept it, but Angus fears it. 

He figures, if there is one Void Fish in this world there has to be more, and he wonders, desperately, what else he has forgotten and _why_. 

Paranoia in this situation, will keep him wary and keep him guessing. 

His mother’s paranoia, after all, is why he is a great detective. 

Johan starts plucking away at his harp and Angus lets himself for once be swept away in the tune, enjoying the soft notes reverberating off the tall walls of the room. He sighs and sinks into the pillow. Tomorrow, he will try and map out the base again and figure out where those extra rooms are. Maybe he can even try and find a spell that can help him and have Taako teach it to him. 

Angus slowly starts to tap his foot again, along with the cut time of the music, and here, his tapping actually helps. 

**Author's Note:**

> @ griffin fuckin admit that ango already knows whats up with the bureau or i will call you out
> 
> also @ griffin give me some backstory to work with otherwise I will have to do it myself which will only result in me writing 20 more fics of angos lowkey detective mother who uses her skills solely for social parties


End file.
